The Frank Lampard Appreciation Society proudly presents yet another chapter in the unedited, uncut version a of Frank Lampard’s diary from this season. Read at your own risk. Warning – this content may not be suitable for mature adults.
NOVEMBER 1, 2011
Genk. The word will forever haunt my nightmares. It seems like just yesterday JT was missing penalty kicks in finals and I was hugging him and reminding him that there would always be a tomorrow. That tomorrow is today. And I can look back at a long line of unhappy yesterdays. We tied Genk in the Champions League. And I didn’t start.
The manager continues to play tricks with my mind, what with the not starting me every game and not playing me every minute. In this game, Ramires scored an early goal, just as I told him to before the match, but then tragedy struck. We won a penalty kick, but our designated penalty kick taker was not on the field. Me. I did shout from the bench for David Luiz to take it, but I specifically instructed him to score. He did not. Then Genk scored. And then, surprise surprise, Mr. Gofer, our “manager,” subbed me in. Super Frank to the rescue. All I needed was a cape!
But even Super Frank needs more than a half hour to create magic. You can’t just grab David Copperfield out of a bus, hand him a hat and wand, and expect him to make the Statute of Liberty instantly disappear. That young Sturridge chap did well, though, and sent me a decent cross. However, he sent me a cross to my feet, not to my head as instructed. If he can just improve that and place a ball on my noggin, I harbor the hope we can turn things around. Assuming I start matches, that is.
COMMENT ADDED BY FRANK ON NOVEMBER 2, 2011
I am ever so upset. On the charter back from the Genk game, I wrote a nice note to Sturridge to compliment his performance, especially the part about passing the ball to me. I sat at the front of the charter, so I passed the note backwards in the hopes it would reach Sturridge at the back. And guess who intercepted it – KALOU. He grabbed it and opened it and read it to everybody. He even imitated my voice and sang “Danny & Frankie sitting in a tree.” I was so angry and also so embarrassed and so sad. Doesn’t he realize that people write and pass notes because they want to say something in private? I really hope we don’t re-sign him at the end of the year. He upsets team chemistry. And me.
NOVEMBER 5, 2011
I am ever so elated! I haven’t much to say because I normally only write in you when things go poorly, but today was marvelous. I started the game, played 90 minutes, and scored the winning goal! I vividly recall the moment. Ivanovic sent me a pass which made me happy, but then I realized the pass would be too low and miss my head, the fool! Instinctively, I closed my eyes, attempted to re-enter the womb, curled into the fetal position, tripped over my own shoes, and headed the ball into the net. It was glorious. I just hope Manager Gopher saw it and learned his lesson.
NOVEMBER 12, 2011
The good times keep rolling and I feel like nothing can stop me, not even Mr. Manager Gopher buzzkill. Well, you can’t stop true genius – you can only hope to not-start it. Or un-start it. Regardless, I am elated yet again! I captained England and we beat Spain! Scott Parker was man of the match, but many journalists overlooked a simple fact – he was only running to where I was pointing. Regardless, I also scored the goal, once again using my patented “no movement /ball bounces invitingly to forehead” approach. I am so so happy! Nothing could go wrong!
COMMENT ADDED BY FRANK ON NOVEMBER 22, 2011
I’m sorry if you think that I’ve been avoiding you, but I’m really really sad. I’ve been too depressed to even pick up a pen. I was scoring goals and starting and the world was wonderful, but then the carpet got yanked form under my feet. We lost to Liverpool at home. I didn’t score a goal and my teammates didn’t give me good passes. It was miserable. Glen Johnson scored a late winner and I sprinted over to John Terry to tell him to not call Glen a black cunt. JT agreed, but asked if he could call him a brown cunt. I don’t think JT quite gets the point at times.
Sometimes I feel like all I have is you. And it breaks my heart.
NOVEMBER 23, 2011
Guten morgen! Even though my team’s season is in a tailspin, I am ever so happy. Why? Well, today I get to see my old friend, Michael, from Germany. We still talk from time-to-time by telephone about the good old days, back when we could stand in front of Essien, walk around, take speculative shots from distance, and occasionally head corner kicks. Michael is liking Germany and even sent me some lederhosen. He said that lots of teams in the bundesliga would love to sign me, and that in Germany, my first name would be “Fran”, not “Frank.” I am not making that last part up!
COMMENT ADDED BY FRANK ON NOVEMBER 24, 2011
I am sad. It was great to see Michael again, but we lost to his team, Barnyard Leavercusack, on another last second goal. The worst part is that I specifically told each defender not to give up a goal in the last ten minutes of the game! And what did they do? Yep. I also tried on the lederhosen, took a pic, and put it on my Google Plus profile for a spell as a joke. And guess who printed out a picture and taped it all over the locker room? KALOU. I hate him.
Worst yet, management got wind and I had to meet with the coach and GM. I had to profess my “commitment” to Chelsea, but nobody had to commit to me. I’ve really started to lose patience with Mr. Gopher Manager. I tried to talk tactics and drew a chalkboard of our team with lots of arrows pointing to my forehead and me standing near goal, but it was lost on him. Simpleton. I actually miss Avram Grant. And Gus Hiddink. And Carlos.
NOVEMBER 27, 2011
The downward spiral continues. I didn’t start yesterday and the manager told me the night before. I slept with the window open and a cold chill awoke me around 3am. I closed the window. I put on an extra layer of sailor pajamas. I got out a second comforter from the closet. I still felt a cold chill. I put on the lederhosen my friend Michael had sent me, but nothing worked. I lay awake, freezing. The day of the game, the team won 3-0, but I only played the last 20 minutes. In that time, I walked, I pointed, and I panted, but I felt the world spinning around me. I was lost in my own jersey, in my own stadium, and playing in the stadium I’ve called home for a decade.
I really hope I get an iPad 2 for Christmas to cheer me up. And a Bentley.
Digital image impression by Erik Ebeling. Check out his other artwork at ErikEbelingArt.com. He also did the excellent illustrations for our soccer eBook “An Illustrated Guide to Soccer & Spanish.”
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